


Tranquility Unbound

by therutherfordwife



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drug Use, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Questionable Coping Mechanisms, Tranquil Inquisitor, it'll happen it'll just be slow af, slow recovery from mental health issues, tags will be updated as fic progresses, unstable inquisitor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 15:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15122228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therutherfordwife/pseuds/therutherfordwife
Summary: Lisaria Trevelyan was made Tranquil nearly four years before the Conclave, although the truth behind why she underwent the Rite remains a mystery. When the explosion at the Conclave sees her connection to the Fade restored, can she find a way to cope with the overwhelming emotions, as well as the voracious attentions of the demons that have returned to haunt her dreams?





	Tranquility Unbound

Awareness crept upon her like a wounded animal, slow and cautious, as if unsure whether it would be greeted with kindness or cruelty. Confusion was at the forefront of her mind, and blocked her from responding with one or the other. Confusion that this was happening, confusion at the confusion itself, and confusion because she didn’t recognize where she was . . . and at the same time, she did.

_This . . . is wrong,_ Lis thought carefully. _But this . . . is perfect._ Where was she?

She blinked into the light as a sense of peace suffused through her. She knew exactly where she was; she was _home_. She’d walked this path so often as a child that as an adult, she’d gone farther than anyone in living memory. A familiar flick of her wrist, and the mist around her dispersed and solidified into the garden she’d grown for herself, starting that very first night in the circle. _”Everything will be all right,”_ whispered the beautiful lady with the long silver hair as she rocked the sobbing child to sleep. _”Find a safe place inside yourself, and plant a flower. Plant one every time you’re sad, and your tears will grow a garden.”_

Her garden had grown quickly and in abundance. Bending down to the lone rose in the center of the garden, Lisaria inhaled deeply and allowed a small smile to dance upon her lips. A silent plains rose, rarest of all, the first plant in her garden. She’d missed this smell, she knew.

Although . . . why had she missed it? The sense of _wrongness_ grew stronger as she searched within herself and throughout her garden for whatever was amiss.

It was not until she came upon her youngest plant, what had been a fine stalk of felandaris, that her confusion was laid to rest. The skeletal plant was withered terribly, shrunken and on the verge of death. She’d planted it the day they took her baby away, the same day they’d put a brand to her forehead and sealed her from this beautiful place. The wrongness faded as she felt the truth return, even as panic began to fragment her control and anger nipped at the borders of her small realm of the fade.

She’d been forced away for so long, forced to nothingness and rote ability.

 

Her scream of rage from the center of the imploding inferno shattered the nebulous reality and her eyes snapped open to be faced with the wide surprised eyes of an armored woman. Emotions she’d barely been able to contain within the fade grew with overwhelming force in reality. Anger and fear and confusion and joy and sadness all bursting at her seams, and she couldn’t get them to cooperate and everything was so _much_ she couldn’t -

A crack of energy ripped pain through her hand, and she cried out as everything falling apart inside her amplified further is a flash of green and she couldn’t keep in the screams of panic anymore. The woman withdrew suddenly with a gasp and spoke sharply though Lisaria could not register her words, and then a wave of calm struck the storm inside of her.

_Silence._

The feeling was as familiar as it was terrible, but for the first time in her memory she embraced wholly the blessed silence. It didn’t calm the emotions, but it did put an end to the storm of electricity she’d inadvertently been brewing within the confines of the room. She tried to hold her hands to her head, and couldn’t, tried to throw herself to her feet, and couldn’t, tried to twist around to get her bearings, and couldn’t. Tried to figure out why, but her thoughts raced and bumbled together and all she knew was that she _couldn’t_ move the ways she _needed_ to and that restriction was unbearable.

Voices blurred together around her, drowned from her own ears by her own high pitched and shrieking cries. Words frantically spilled from her mouth, desperate pleas for help and terrified questions about what was happening, why she felt this why, why she _felt_ at all.

The others in the room had withdrawn, though Lisaria registered very little about them other than their presence and their wide eyes. Finally, after what seemed a minor eternity, someone new was ushered into the room and a vial of smooth liquid forced down her throat and a hand grasped her chin, forcing her to face a stern looking man who glared at her until her sobs and cries quieted and she relaxed in his grip. Calm descended on her, no doubt a result of whatever she’d just been given. Fear tried to grip her at the way her emotions slid away again, but even it’s cold clutched fell away. _What if they don’t come back again?_ she wondered idly. The thought was . . . uncomfortable.

“Aye, she’ll be all right for a little while. What in Maferath’s bloody name did you lot do to the girl?” the man asked, releasing her chin and letting her sag against her chains. Chains? That must be why she couldn’t move. 

“Nothing but secure her here,” came the protest. Lisaria rolled her head to the side to see the woman who’d initially been in front of her. _Seeker_ , she realized. Probably the one that Silenced her. “There is no reason for her to have gone so insane!”

“It could be a result of the mark,” spoke an Orlesian voice, though Lisaria didn’t bother to look for the speaker. She was far too entranced by the discovery of a sparkling green rift in her palm. _It looks like the Fade,_ she realized. _I keep the Fade in the palm of my hand._

The stern man was speaking again. “She’ll be calm for the next several hours, but that doesn’t mean she’s stable. I’d recommend you get on with your interrogation quickly, Lady Seeker.”

A woman with bright red hair and a dark countenance appeared in her vision, grabbing her wrist and holding her hand up as far as the chains allowed. “Do you know what this is? How it came to be on your hand?”

What an odd question. “No?”

“You don’t seem very certain,” the redhead glared at her.

“She’s drugged out of her mind, she won’t be very certain of anything. She’ll hardly be able to lie, though, so I’d be inclined to believe her.”

“What about the Conclave? Do you remember what happened?” the redhead ignored him.

The . . . Conclave. That’s right, she’d been at the Conclave. Moira had brought her, with Sister Adelaide. She was supposed to testify before Divine Justinia. “Is the Conclave over?” she mumbled. “Did I help?”

“If by over you mean utterly destroyed, and by help you mean you are responsible, then yes to both.” The seeker snarled.

“Huh.” That didn’t sound right. The Conclave was supposed to help.

The Lady Seeker made a noise of disgust. “Adan, this is not helping. Perhaps if we show her, we can get more useful information from her.”

The stern man threw up his hands. “Do as you will, Lady Seeker. I don’t rightly know what’s going on the world right now, let alone what’s best.”

Lady Seeker nodded decisively. “Leliana, go join Cullen. I will try to get more from her,” she gestured to Lisaria, “and meet you both there as soon as possible.”

Leliana nodded. “Don’t take too long, Casandra, our resources are rapidly dwindling,” she cautioned, prowling from the room with one last glare thrown at Lisaria.

Before she knew what was happening, Lisaria was being pulled to her feet and dragged from the dungeon. Upon being brought outside, Seeker Cassandra let go of Lisaria’s arm and she collapsed to her knees, gazing in awe at the brilliant whirling storm above the mountain. The seeker’s Silence was wearing off, and she could feel the chaotic tendrils of energy pouring from the green hole in the sky. Despite the drugs in her system, she found herself responding automatically to that energy, and all around her tiny snow blossoms began to creep from the ground and sprout their tiny petals. “That’s . . . Fade,” she whispered. “It shouldn’t be here.”

“No, it should not. The explosion that destroyed the Conclave also opened that rift in the sky, just like the mark on your hand.” Lisaria looked down at the sliver of Fade in her palm and clenched her hand reflexively. “You are the only survivor. The soldiers who found you say that you fell from a rift after the explosion, with that thing on your hand. The people think you responsible for the destruction.” The seeker inspected her face intently, looking for signs of understanding, and Lisaria duly nodded. “Are you? Responsible for this?”

She wanted to say no. No felt like the truth, but her mind felt slow and no matter how she tried, she couldn’t bring to mind the events of the Conclave after Moira had brought her to the temple. “I don’t remember,” she finally said.

The seeker growled in dissatisfaction and hauled her to her feet again, dragging her through the town. “What - where are we going?” Lisaria managed to ask.

“To the Breach. It is possible that the mark on your hand will allow us to close it, but we cannot know for certain unless you are there. Leliana and Cullen should have a path cleared for us up the mountain. Can you walk on your own?”

“I don’t know?” Lisaria struggled to pull her feet under her. Her legs felt strangely disconnected from her body, but after several seconds of trying, she managed to get herself upright and take a few tentative steps. “I feel drunk,” she declared. She didn’t quite remember the last time she was drunk, but the words felt accurate nonetheless.

Lady Seeker sighed in exasperation but nonetheless pulled Lisaria along behind her, mindful of the mage’s bumbling steps. “If I release your hands, will you follow? I have no qualms against Silencing you again and dragging you up the mountain if necessary, but things will be simpler if you choose to come with me willingly.”

She had a choice? How interesting. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a choice. “I will follow.”

“Good.” Lady Seeker released her bound hands and stepped away, motioning for her to follow. Haltingly, Lisaria did so, taking a moment to adjust her headscarf, the memory of Moira referring to her as a pirate flickering through her mind.

It was several minutes of walking before Lisaria felt halfway certain of her steps again, and the seeker kept a very close watch on her. They were perhaps a third of the way up the mountain when the Breach seemed to shift above them and Lisaria felt a responding crackle of pain in her palm, followed by a nearby impact and the stone of the bridge beneath hers and Cassandra’s feet collapsed.

The next instant she was gazing up at the Breach from the frozen ice of the river, Cassandra somewhere nearby calling for her to rise. Surely she need not rise immediately, she mused. The Breach was beautiful to watch. A place where the world of men and the world of spirits met. She’d never seen anything like it.

An unworldly shriek broke her reverie, followed by a curse and a clash of steel. It was enough of a curiosity to find Lisaria pushing to her feet, to be greeted by the sight of several demons surrounding herself and Cassandra, who was already engaged with one demon.

A detached part of Lisaria’s mind began to come to life at the sight of these denizens of the Fade. This was familiar. _They_ were familiar. How many years had she spent studying these creatures and their counterparts, walking the Fade and finding them in the waking world alike. The Fade swirled from the Breach, infusing everything in the vicinity with it’s energy. Energy that Lisaria was more intimately aware of than any other mage she’d ever met. Power she had not wielded of her own accord in several years.

Power that she embraced as an old friend.

Reflexes honed through years of training took over without conscious thought as Lisaria stepped forward and reached over Cassandra’s shoulder to place her open palm onto the snarling face of the demon. “Cease,” she commanded, bringing all her will to bear. “Cease, and return.”

It fought her, of course; they always did. But even unnaturally calm as she was made by the drugs that coursed within her, her will was stronger than any mere shade. All it took was a single moment of effort and the demon melted away with a shriek. Without hesitation, Lisaria turned to the other demons and spoke not a word, simply sweeping her will through them all and sending them scattering back to the Fade.

Silence overtook the area. Releasing her focus, Lisaria nearly collapsed with a groan. Her body felt oddly light, yet fragile. How long had it been since such energy had coursed through her? Her head began to pound horribly.

“How did you do that?” demanded the seeker. “I have never seen a mage use such power. Who _are_ you?”

“My name is Lisaria Antoni-Trevelyan,” she began haltingly, looking up to meet the Seeker’s gaze. “And I am a Dreamer.”

The seeker frowned. “Lisaria Trevelyan? You were supposed to testify at the Conclave. But . . . you cannot be her! She is Tranquil!” The woman stepped forward and ripped the carefully wrapped scarf from Lisaria’s head, revealing the bright and shimmering brand of lyrium embedded in her forehead.

“Not anymore.” Despite her detachment, she was acutely aware of the emotions that would otherwise be overwhelming her. Taking her scarf back from the Seeker, she retied it around her head to obscure the brand. Even when she’d been emptied of all emotion she’d kept it hidden more often than not. A remnant of the last request from Kaito. It didn’t make sense, any of it; but neither she nor the seeker were in a position to investigate, and if they took too long getting up the mountain, if Adan’s potion wore off . . . 

She’d be lost to herself again, trapped within a storm of overpowerful emotions she was helpless to control anymore. “We need to go,” she declared, beginning to walk along the river in the same direction as the path above. 

Lady Seeker joined her after she’d already moved off several yards. “This conversation is not over,” she threatened. Lisaria simply nodded and let the seeker take the lead once more.

They encountered several more demons on their path, but Lisaria responded as her instincts demanded each time, and despite how uncomfortable the Seeker seemed to be with her actions, she also seemed grateful for the reprieve from fighting. It was not until they encountered the first rift the either woman spoke again.

Lisaria’s energy was beginning to wane by this time, and despite the ease with which the Fade was accessed so close to the rift, the energy was chaotic and hard to control, making it difficult to harness against the demons spitting out every which way. 

Ignoring the others who fought beside them, Lisaria reached out her hand to the rift, her own marked palm outwards as if in greeting to an old friend. The crackle of energy that burst through brought with it a wave of pain that almost brought her to her knees, and the attention of the remaining demons that had escaped the Fade through this portal fell to her. With a mighty pull, stronger than anything she’d done in years, she forced the demons back through the rift and pushed all of the Fade energy back through as well, until nothing was left and the rift collapsed in on itself with an almost audible snap.

This time, she couldn’t keep from collapsing to her knees. Voices swirled about her, but she hadn’t the energy to focus on any of them until a hand touched her shoulder. “You all right there, Shiny?” asked a concerned voice.

She looked up into the craggy face of a handsome dwarf, but barely did she recognize this when her attention was drawn to the weapon in his hands. “I like your crossbow,” she whispered dazedly. “It’s pretty.”

His concern deepened in his face and he looked past her. “Uh, Seeker? Is our friend her okay?”

“I don’t know, Varric, ask her!” she snapped.

“I _did,_ Cassandra, her response was . . . concerning.”

A new face obscured her vision, pale eyes meeting her gaze intently. “She has been drugged,” the elvhen man declared. “Seeker Cassandra, is this really necessary?”

_”Yes,”_ Cassandra said emphatically. “She was hysterical when she awoke, screaming and thrashing about with no control over herself or her magic. She was a danger to herself and everyone around her!”

“I hardly think drugging her was the best course of action,” the elf said disapprovingly. “I would have considered other options first. She is nearly catatonic.”

“Well then next time she falls apart, _you_ get to deal with her,” Cassandra spat. “Come. We need to keep moving.”

The dwarf held out a hand and helped Lisaria back to her unsteady feet. The feeling of being drunk was growing stronger, numbness slowly being replaced by intense flashes of emotion. She wanted to laugh and cry and sleep in equal measure, but the drugs were still strong enough to keep a stern barrier between how she felt and what she was doing. It was a strange sort of disconnect, and Lisaria found herself hoping she would never have to feel this way again. It was distinctly uncomfortable.

“Varric Tethras,” the dwarf said as he pulled her upright. “And Chuckles over there is Solas. He helped keep you alive after they pulled you back to Haven.”

“Lisaria.”

“Just Lisaria?”

“Antoni-Trevelyan.”

Varric’s eyes widened but he said nothing, nodding to himself and indicating for her to follow after Cassandra and Solas. Of the three, he seemed the most concerned with her well being at the moment.

The little group found their way quickly after that, Lisaria encouraged to save her energy and let the others take care of the demons they encountered. Their progress halted for a moment when they encountered the wounded being cared for behind the front lines, but Lisaria paid little attention to the shouting Chantry man in favor of taking in the Breach once more. From so high on the mountain, she could see through into the depths of the Fade and the numerous creatures clamoring for release. She found it interesting that so many came through in the form of demons; if the Breach hadn’t been caused by such a tragedy, would the spirits have been corrupted by the fear and anger of the people around?

Her musings were cut short when Cassandra yelled at the Chantry man and turned to speak instead to the redheaded woman from before, Leliana. After a moment of hurried discussion, they nodded grimly to each other before going their separate ways, Cassandra gesturing for the others to follow her. “Cullen has cleared a path to the Temple. We are going to join him, and together we will see about getting Lisaria to the first rift and closing it. Hopefully doing so will stop this madness.”

A wild laugh burst from Lisaria, drawing stunned looks from the others. “It’s not madness, it’s _energy,”_ Lisaria tried to explain through her cackling. It was just so funny to her the way non-mages saw things sometimes. A whole world of possibilities, and she described it as ‘madness’? Ludicrous.

Just as swiftly as the laughter came upon her, it fell away, and Lisaria swayed on her feet. “I don’t think I can do this,” she said, the beginnings of fear creeping into her voice again. 

Solas was beside her in an instant, hand on her shoulder and Lisaria could feel her energy being siphoned away, leaving her almost too exhausted to stand. “She will need help to the temple,” he stated, “But she should be stable until then. When we’ve reached the rift there, I can return her energy to her.”

“You can do that?” Varric asked in disbelief.

The elf nodded. “It is not difficult, though doing so is impolite and a mage in charge of their full faculties would be able to stop the siphon with a thought. She is incapable of blocking herself from anything at the moment, however, so such a thing is relatively easy.”

“Right. Because that’s not incredibly concerning.” Without another word, Varric swept her off her feet and began to trudge up the mountain. “Let’s get on with it then! I’m sure Curly could use the break he’ll get when this thing is closed.”

Lisaria had no idea who Curly was, nor did she care. Varric’s grip was firm, and the rhythm of his steps was soothing. She wanted to drift away, go back to her garden in the Fade and find peace once more. Take the time to understand what was happening to her. Forget the Breach, Tranquility, and fighting a mountain of demons.

A song broke her reverie, halting and discordant yet familiar in a way that was wholly disconcerting. The very air around them seemed to vibrate with the strings of the music of lyrium, but the music was _wrong._ Terribly wrong. As if someone had taken a knife to the strings and sliced the chord in two before tying it back together with blood. It was enough to find her groaning in Varric’s arms, hands coming to her head to try to block out the horrible noise.

The rumble of an approaching demon caught her attention even through the pounding of the twisted lyrium song. Immediately her focus reasserted itself with newfound intensity, and she reached across the tenuous connection Solas had formed between them when he stole her strength and deftly snatched it back, as well as using the connection between her palm and the rift to pull energy directly from the Fade. She remembered the first time she’d banished a Pride demon; doing so was neither simple nor without great cost. 

Her hand found Varric’s chest and deftly pushed him away, his surprise at her strength allowing her to escape his grasp. Ignoring the shouts that rose around her, ignoring the echoes of the past that reverberated through the shattered and still smoking temple ruins, Lisaria strode purposefully towards the rift in the center of the destruction. Her only focus was the coming demon; to think of anything else was to lose entire control over her being. So instead, she watched herself move as if from a distance, aware of what she was doing but setting herself aside in order to see through what must be done.

Electricity crackled in the air around her as she stood before the rift. She’d always thought the flickers of lightning beautiful; here, surrounded by the energy of the Fade brought into the waking world, it was ethereal.

The roar of the demon shattered her musings, and her focus shifted to the form solidifying next to her. Quick as a whip, her hand snapped out and slammed into the beast’s leg, and she channeled every bit of her own energy as well as pulling further from the rift. In a way, the fact that the rift was there made this far simpler than it had ever been before. Rather than forcing the demon back across the veil, all she had to do was . . . push.

“Return,” she whispered in a voice that carried far further than a whisper ought to. The demon’s raging scream cut off suddenly, and the massive eyes turned to glare at her in rage before Lisaria clenched her fist, pushing with all her might against the Fade energy, calming the storm and forcing order to the chaos. Pride vanished in the wake of her power, and a scream of her own filled the ruined temple as she tried to force the rift closed, but her power was dwindling rapidly, her body too unused to channeling this much energy after so long. With a cry of frustration, Lisaria gave one last push of energy to try to close the rift, and then the world fell to darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello peeps! Long time no post. Life got crazy and is going to be crazy for a while, and I got stuck in a rut of "everything I write sucks so I'm just never going to post anything ever" but I'm trying to be better about that so here we go ^.^ This is technically a re-post; Tranquility Unbound was the first fic I ever posted, but as I wrote more and improved a bit, I decided I hadn't done Lisaria justice so I began a rewrite, of which this is chapter one. Updates will be entirely spontaneous because I have way too many wips for any sane person and my attention bounces, but I'm hoping to be posting more this summer than I have in the last year or so. It'll probably slow again come fall, because I'm officially going back to school full time (YAY) but we'll see.


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